


Bad Dream, Jack?

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:46:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Challenge response to[ Bad Dream, Jack? ]- Jack falls asleep on a Sunday night....SPOILERS: The Serpent’s Lair, Point of View, and Foothold





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Bad Dream, Jack?

##  Bad Dream, Jack? 

##### Written by Steph Lutz   
Comments? Write to us at Kaisteph@worldnet.att.net

  


Colonel Jack O'Neill walked aimlessly through the corridors of the SGC, rolling his tired shoulders and stretching his neck from side to side. _I'm getting too old for this,_ he thought grimly. He was developing aches in places that had never used to ache before….

Dr. Daniel Jackson and Major Samantha Carter were in Carter's lab, excitedly examining the newest artifact they'd brought back from the last, very _un_ exciting mission. Five minutes of listening to them had threatened to give him the headache from Netu. Teal'c had retired to his quarters to rest, recharge, do kal-nor-whatever, which left Jack completely at loose ends. General Hammond wanted them to debrief in two hours, which meant there was no point in going home and coming back. 

Jack's wandering brought him to the officer's lounge, which was empty. He switched on the TV and flipped to FOX, hoping to catch the end of the late football game. He did - the very end, being the credits for the post-game show. He stretched out on the couch anyway - nothing else to do after nine on a Sunday night. He tilted his head back against the non-too-comfortable back of the couch, and let himself drift off….

Someone was shaking him. Pretty hard, for what felt like such a small hand. Definitely not a Jaffa hand. Carter? "Sam," he muttered, brushing the hand away. "Okay, okay, I'm awake. For crying out loud…." He dragged his eyes open, to see bright blue ones gazing back at him with a sympathetic expression. It _wasn't_ Carter. "Whoa!" Jack jerked upright, heart pounding, to see that he wasn't in the officer's lounge anymore either, but on a leather couch with a petite, smartly dressed redhead bending over him.

"Bad dream, Mulder?" the redhead asked softly. She sat down and continued to stare at him with a concerned expression. "You must have had a rough night, to fall back asleep in your clothes. Unless…." Her eyes narrowed. "No water beds short-circuiting alarm clocks again?"

"Huh?" Jack sat as far back on the edge of the couch as he could, and looked desperately around the room for help. The room was pretty cluttered but austere - hard wood floors, angled bachelor type furniture - and much smaller than the rooms in his house….

The redhead sighed. "Never mind. Mulder, it's ten o'clock. We were supposed to be in Skinner's office at 8:30."

"AM?" Jack squinted at the window. Now that she mentioned it, he could see traces of light around the edge of the shade, over the computer…. _Computer?_ He shuddered and looked back at the redhead. "Uh… Skinner?"

Before she could answer there was a chirping sound, and the redhead drew a cell phone from an impressively small pocket and flipped it open. "Scully. Yes, sir - I found him. Yes, sir - we're on our way."

"Come on, Mulder," she said impatiently, getting to her feet, and handing him the suit jacket that was draped across the end of the couch. "Work first, dream analysis later."

"Uh, okay," Jack said carefully, standing up. "Just let me uh…" he jerked his head in the direction in which he hoped the bathroom was.

"Fine. I'll be waiting downstairs." She leaned over and picked up a set of keys from the coffee table. "And I'd better drive," she said, eyeing him up and down.

The bathroom _was_ in that direction and Jack escaped into it gladly, closing the door and leaning back against it with his eyes closed. 

Keeping his eyes closed, he took a deep breath. Okay, first things first. Was this real, or a dream? He unbuttoned his shirtsleeve, reached in, took hold of a finger-full of flesh and gave himself a tentative pinch. Nothing. He grabbed more skin and pinched harder. "Ow! Damn!"

Okay, so this was real. Opening his eyes and rubbing his now bruised forearm, he walked over to the sink. The same Jack he saw every morning was looking back out of the mirror at him now. Same gray hair in short military haircut. Same dark eyes. Same mouth, lips opened in confusion. He closed them, and gave himself another critical glance. Shirt and tie - he _never_ worse those, except for his dress uniform, and that as little as possible. Pretty fancy watch too, and it didn't have military time. 

Going further down, he found a gun holstered to his belt. _Well, well._ He hefted it. A Glock 9MM. Not bad, though it had been awhile since he held any weapon smaller than a Zat. He re-holstered the gun and checked his back pocket for a wallet. He found both a wallet and an ID case, and flipped open the latter. A younger face with dark hair and eyes and a rather large nose gazed up at him, solemn, but with a quirky half-smile on his lips. FBI. Special Agent Fox Mulder. What the heck kind of a name was Fox? At least not a Goa'uld name.

He opened the wallet and looked at the driver's license. Same name, same face. The address was Alexandria, Virginia. Which meant, if he accepted all this, he was in DC - his favorite city. Not. And a Fed. He hated Feds. And that woman who had awakened him, and was probably tapping her feet very impatiently in the car waiting for him, must be a Fed too. She looked way smart - he could feel his palms sweating already. He wished one of his rocket scientists was there now - not necessarily to try explaining this to him, but just to find a way to make it stop.

"Just go with it, O'Neill," he muttered to himself as he left the apartment.

The drive was a quiet one. Jack feigned continued exhaustion, tilting his head back and toward the window, just cracking his eyes open once in awhile to confirm that yes, he was in Washington DC. Funny how much DC looked like Colorado. Or like just about every planet they'd visited, for that matter.

He followed Scully into the main building of FBI Headquarters, doing what she did, and wondering where in that tight black pantsuit she managed to hide a weapon. Taking in as much of his surroundings as possible for future reference, he made small grunts in response to her conversation, which seemed to revolve around lab tests. Yup, she was way smart. He gathered that they were partners, and that they were on their way to see their boss, who was going to want some sort of answers.

This was confirmed when they entered an outer reception area, and were told by a perky secretary, who looked a lot like Scully, that _he_ was expecting them. They walked through the door bearing the name Assistant Director Skinner, and found standing behind a large and official looking wooden desk…. General Hammond. 

"Gen-" Jack bit off his exclamation, as Scully nodded at the General and said "Good morning, Sir," as if this were perfectly normal.

General Hammond gave them a long slow look, and said in a wooden voice "The owls are not what they seem."

"What??" Jack and Scully said in unison.

The General gave his head a shake, and cleared his throat. "Sorry, wrong crossover. Have a seat, Agents."

They sat. Scully pulled a folder from no-where, and left Jack again pondering the dimensions of her suit as she opened the folder and began to explain to General Hammond, whom she obviously saw as her supervisor, about the same lab tests she'd discussed in the hallway.

Jack snapped to sudden attention as he heard Scully say "…. extraterrestrial in origin."

__

What?

General Hammond was looking at him. "Is that your conclusion, Agent Mulder?"

Jack swallowed hard. "I…uh…." He gave Scully a desperate look.

She sighed. "Agent Mulder believes that these charred metal fragments, found in a cornfield in Iowa last month, are remnants of an alien craft."

__

Whoa. Jack blinked and gave the General a weak smile and faint shrug. What the heck did the FBI know about aliens? Top secret was top secret, but there were a lot of gray areas, and after all the Pentagon was just down the road…

The General gave him a long searching look, and turned back to Scully. "And, naturally, you think otherwise?"

"Well," Scully frowned. "The degree of oxidation of the metal indicates that the fragments have been in the ground for at least a year. The farmer who found them rotates his crops every three years, so that is a possibility, and Agent Mulder," she paused and cast a sideways glance at Jack, who did his best to not let her see that his eyes were glazing over. He had a sneaking suspicion that Agent Mulder was also way smarter than he was. "Agent Mulder links the "arrival" of the fragments with UFO sightings in the area a little over a year ago."

Hammond nodded. "That supposed fire-fight that made all the tabloids. I remember that."

"Yes, sir." Scully pulled an old newspaper clipping from the folder. It was the front page of one of the more spectacular tabloids, and bore the heading **Alien Ships Destroy Each Other in Battle to the Death**. The date was a week after the destruction of Apophis' and Klorel's ships. Jack bit his lip and tried to keep from fidgeting - it seemed this Agent Mulder was on to something…

"Now, the metal -," Scully continued, " the individual elements of the compound are known, but have never been seem in this particular combination before. And there are also traces of an _organic_ compound that has never been seen before, and thus Agent Mulder concludes is extraterrestrial."

"And you?" Hammond asked.

"It _is_ unknown, sir, and I think it bears further investigating."

The boss nodded. Scully looked over at Jack questioningly. He gave her an encouraging 'go ahead' nod. She glared at him, and pulled another sheet of paper from the file, placing it on the desk in front of her boss.

"Agent Mulder completed this 402 requesting travel to the site where these metal fragments were located, sir."

Hammond signed the form and handed it back to Scully. "Keep me informed, Agents. That will be all."

Scully stood and walked quickly, practically stalked, out of the room. Jack followed her, smiled at the secretary, who smiled back quite perkily, and turned the corner in the hallway to find his partner waiting for him, hands on hips and eyes flashing angrily.

"Thanks for all your _help_ , Mulder!" she hissed. "You just left me hanging out to dry in there, trying to explain _your_ theories to Skinner!"

"You did it," Jack said mildly. "And you sounded like you agreed."

"I agree that the scientific evidence should be studied and investigated further, Mulder, that is _all._ "

Sensing that she was about to launch back into a discussion that was way over his head, Jack grabbed her arm, and steered her toward the elevator, really, sincerely, wishing Major Carter were there. "Scully," he said quietly, "we have to talk."

 

 

Their office was in the basement. Go figure. Mulder's name was on the office door, but not Scully's. Go figure again - FBI bureaucracy must be even worse than Air Force….

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, and glanced around. Tons of pictures cluttered the walls, UFO's. In clear and blurred photos, including a couple very accurate representations of Goa'uld gliders. Jack's stomach lurched. Perching on the edge of the only desk, he faced Scully.

"Okay," he began. "This is gonna sound a little crazy…."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Mulder, if _you_ think it sounds crazy, then to me it will seem positively psychotic."

Jack just looked at her. "Ah. Well, here goes - I'm not Agent Mulder."

Scully folded her arms. "You're not," she repeated in a deadpan voice. 

"No."

"OK, let me guess. Eddie Van Blundt ? Howard? A clone? An alien-human hybrid? Or one of those shapeshifters? Should I get an icepick?" Scully glared at him fiercely as she paused her rant to catch her breath.

"Uh…no, actually," Jack said blinking at her in total confusion - unsure if she was serious, joking, or just plain wacko.

"Well, then, who exactly _are_ you, and what have you done with my partner?" She demanded. "And this better _not_ be a scam to get out of paperwork."

Jack grinned uneasily at that one. _Guess Mulder hates paperwork too - guy can't be all bad…_ He cleared his throat. "My name is Jack O'Neill. I'm a Colonel in the US Air Force, currently based in Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado. I head a unit assigned to… uh… the analysis of deep space radar." He winced - that really did sound pretty lame.

"I see," Scully said, in a tone that clearly indicated she didn't. Before further questions could be asked, the desk phone rang, making Jack jump. 

__

Saved by the bell once again, he thought grimly.

Scully picked up the phone and snapped "Scully." into the receiver. She immediately rolled her eyes. "Great," she muttered with her hand over the receiver. "It's your 'friends'. Who you are starting to make look normal." She uncovered the receiver. "Yes, we'll come over. Maybe you boys can tell me what's gotten into Mulder. And Frohike - that tape better _not_ be on."

 

Scully was silent during the drive, and Jack wisely decided to remain that way also. He really had no idea what to say anyway - just sitting next to this very pretty and obviously very smart woman made him feel very….confused. How was he supposed to convince her that he was not who he appeared to be, especially when he had no idea how the transformation had happened? Just thinking about that made his temples throb. And was this Agent Mulder in _his_ body? Running around inside Cheyenne Mountain learning all about the aliens he believed existed? Would he tell Teal'c and Sam and Daniel that he wasn't Jack O'Neill? They would believe him, and Sam would find a way to fix things, he knew she would…. But Maybe Agent Mulder would like being O'Neill. Going through the Stargate. Maybe he wouldn't tell them. But they'd figure it out, wouldn't they? Teal'c would know there was something wrong… and Sam - nothing would fool her for long…. Jack sat up straighter in his seat. Okay - first things first. He had to get to Colorado. Since Scully wouldn't be convinced, he'd have to give her the slip. Maybe sneak out while they were with these people who'd called. Sneak out and take the car…

The car stopped, and Jack looked up with a start. Climbing out, he saw they were not exactly in the high rent district. Frowning, he followed Scully into a rather decrepit building, up a slanting staircase three flights and stopped in front of a beat-up though solid looking door. Scully rapped sharply on the door, there was a pause for someone to peer through the peephole, then the sound of one, two, three, four, five deadbolts sliding back. The door cracked open with an ominous squeak, and they were yanked inside. The person who'd opened the door looked both ways in the hallway as if to make sure they weren't followed _who'd follow anyone here?_ Jack thought, those thoughts disappearing abruptly as the person turned around.

Teal'c. Sans gold brand, and dressed in a white tee-shirt, black leather vest, black jeans, and black leather gloves with the fingers cut out. Jack gulped, and tried to croak out a greeting. 

"Hey, Mulder," Teal'c said, affording him just a quick glance before turning to give Scully a leering grin. "Hi, Agent Scully."

"I'm not in the mood today, Frohike," Scully said frostily, casting a stern glance in the direction of his navel, as if she were addressing Junior. "Where's Byers?"

"That implies other times when you _are_ in the mood," Teal'c murmured under his breath, waggling his eyebrows in her direction.

"He's out of town," called a voice from the next room. "Y2K preparedness convention."

"You boys are really taking that seriously?" Scully asked, as they squeezed between cluttered shelves to enter a room that appeared to be filled with more computer and technological gadgets than the entire SGC. 

"Sure we are, Scully," said Daniel Jackson, swiveling around in his desk chair. His hair was slicked back with greasy curls brushing his neck. His glasses now had thick black squarish frames, and he sported a faded pink, slightly stained Grateful Dead tee shirt. "And you should too - you of all people should realize what a conspiracy we're on the verge of."

__

Okay, that's it. Jack thought. _I quit. Yoo hoo - Alice! Where's the white rabbit? Absolutely **no more** bedtime stories for Cassie!_ Desperately, he looked around the room for something to distract him, give him a glimpse of reality. His eyes lit on a computer monitor with a jumping screensaver that proclaimed "Bite me!" Finding that strangely appropriate, he stared at it, fixated.

In the background he heard the word "Colorado." _Uh oh._ Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, opened them, stared at the screensaver one more time, then turned to face the other three people. Daniel was slouched back in a very un-Daniel-like position, talking to Scully, while Teal'c was eyeing her up and down from behind. _Back to Never Neverland_. He put on his best 'play along' smile.

"I'm sorry - what was that about Colorado?"

"Colorado Springs, to be precise." Daniel pushed up his glasses on his nose and swiveled back around to the computer monitor he was in front of. "Some dude hacked in to the computer files of the Air Force Base there, and is selling what he found on the Internet. Check it out, Mulder, there's all this stuff about interstellar travel." He clicked on the mouse and brought up an image on the computer. 

Jack stared, openmouthed - it was the software that Carter used to determine the dialing sequences for the Stargate. He closed his very dry mouth, and licked his lips. "Cool," he managed to mumble, as the various sequence and symbols flashed across the screen.

"Way," Daniel agreed. "They've also got some schematics for some bitchin' looking weapons." He clicked the mouse again and a picture of a staff weapon appeared.

"Looks like a giant alien phallic symbol," Teal'c cracked, leaning forward to look over Scully's shoulder. 

"Yeah, wonder what it does?" Daniel waggled his eyebrows and laughed. 

Jack laughed too, nervously. Well, they did have a point….

"Anyway," Daniel continued, shutting off the computer, "This dude says that they've also got files on those UFO's that you were investigating, but he couldn't download it."

"Could I…" Jack glanced at Scully, "um, we - talk to this guy?"

"No way - he's not _stupid_ , man."

"Probably knows your past history with informants," Teal'c added.

"None of whom were as careful as we are," Daniel agreed with a knowing glance at Teal'c. "But you should check it out - forget Iowa, the real action is in Colorado."

Perfect. Sort of. "You're right," Jack said seriously.

Scully cleared her throat loudly. "Mulder," she said firmly. "We are _not_ going to Colorado. Skinner approved Iowa, and that's it. We have no jurisdiction over an Air Force base - and we've gotten into enough trouble interfering with the military to know that nothing good ever comes of it."

Back to plan A. "Okay, Scully," he said mildly. "We'll see what's in Iowa and take it from there."

She frowned, but was silent. Jack was surprised to see Daniel and Teal'c both grin, giving him knowing looks.

"Don't be a stranger, Mulder," Teal'c said as they headed out the door. "When you get back you can hang out in our bunker. We'll get pizza." The door shut, and the deadbolts locked, one by one.

 

 

"Hey, Scully," he said as they climbed into the car. "Why don't you drop me at my place so I can pack a bag quick - I'll meet you at the airport."

"Oh, no you don't, Mulder," she replied, taking a corner just a bit too fast.

"No I don't what?"

"Mulder, we both have overnight bags in the trunk. I _know_ what you're trying to do. Well, it won't work - you're not ditching me this time. I'm going with you." She gave a long-suffering sigh. " _Someone's_ got to make sure the Air Force doesn't kill you."

Jack blinked. "Uh, okay." He shook his head slightly. Smart women…

*************************************************************************************

The rental car climbed the windy road leading up through the woods at the back of Cheyenne Mountain. Deftly avoiding Scully's questions about where they were going and how he knew the way without a map, he pulled the car off the road and parked it just out of sight behind some bushes.

"Mulder," Scully protested, climbing out of the car after him and brushing aside some leaves. "We're in the middle of the woods!"

"Ya think?" Jack studied the landscape, searching for the trail leading to the top of the mountain, and the hidden ladder tunnel. There - he spotted the mark - a small SGC symbol carved into a tree trunk - Sam's idea after her round trip - a way to make it easier for them, but outsiders wouldn't have a clue.

Sarcasm did not quiet Scully for long. "I don't see an Air Force Base."

"It's on the other side of the mountain, but there's a back way in," he explained quickly. "This way." He walked over to the marker, glad that Mulder had packed jeans and hiking boots in his over night bag. 

"Mulder, we agreed that we wouldn't trespass on government property."

"No, _you_ agreed - I never said anything," he pointed out. Gambling on what he thought he'd learned so far of Scully, he started off up the mountain, fairly certain she'd follow anyway, even if she disapproved. "Besides," he tossed over his shoulder, "we're not trespassing - I work here, remember?"

"Sure, fine, whatever," she grumbled. His gamble paid off as she fell into step behind him.

 

As they neared the area of the entrance hatch, Jack was gratified to find that although FBI agents might be smarter, _he_ was in better shape. While Scully had to bend over to catch her breath, he'd barely broken a sweat. Now, where was that darn hatch…?

"It's over here, Fox," a soft voice came from behind a nearby tree. It sounded like…. Carter? Jack spun around, to see a woman ducking under a branch to come toward him. It was Carter, but not Major Carter. It was Dr Samantha Carter, from the alternate universe, complete with long blonde hair swinging past her shoulders. The one who made him _really_ confused. He swallowed. 

"Uh - Sam?"

Samantha reached out a hand to him, and as he reached out in turn to take it, Scully grabbed his other arm.

"She's not your sister, Mulder," she said, gently, but urgently.

Jack shook her arm off, and grasped Sam's hand. "Of course she isn't," he snapped. "Come on!"

Sam led them behind a tree, and there was the entrance. Jack leaned down, flipped the latch and swung open the lid that concealed the metal ladder. 

"Wait, Fox," Sam blocked his path. "There's something you should know. I came to warn you. He's down there. My father."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Your father? Jacob? Sweet!" he grinned, "Maybe he can help."

Sam frowned, shaking her head. "I don't know who this Jacob is, but my father has never meant to help you. Be careful, Fox."

"Yeah, okay," Jack stepped onto the top rung of the ladder. "Ready for some downhill, Scully?" he quipped, and turned back to Sam. "You coming?"

Her eyes widened. "No! I can't! I just came to warn you, Fox." Her eyes filled with tears, and she fled back into the woods.

Jack gave his head a little shake. "This is just getting weirder and weirder," he muttered, as he started down.

 

Pushing the door open a few inches, Jack peered out into the corridor. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he opened it the rest of the way, jumped out and turned to help Scully. She looked with wary curiosity around the circular hallway, which seemed strangely deserted. Drawing his gun, he slid against the wall, motioned Scully to do likewise, and was gratified to see she already had her weapon out as she inched along the wall behind him. 

As they traveled in this manner through the corridors, stopping to peer carefully around each intersection, Jack grew more and more disturbed at the lack of personnel - not an airman in sight, and a dropping pin would have been deafening. They approached General Hammond's office, and he saw through the window a shape moving within. Dropping down below the window, he crossed to the far side of the doorway, and motioned Scully to flank the other side. He signaled to her that there was at least one person inside, and with his fingers gave a count of three…. two…one… then turned the knob and kicked in the door.

They both swung into the opening, guns straight out in front of their chests, and were greeted by a heavy cloud of smoke. As it cleared, a man came into view sitting behind the general's desk, wearing a dark three-piece suit, and drawing deeply on a cigarette. 

Apophis.

"You!" Both Jack and Scully hissed at the same time. Giving her a quick sideways glance, he saw that her knuckles were white around the handle of her weapon, and her face wore a look of pure hatred, turning her blue eyes to stone.

Apophis blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth. "Hello, Fox," he said mildly. "I was wondering when you'd come to join us, but you're right on schedule."

'Schedule for what?" Scully asked, her voice ice cold.

"Why to go through the gate, of course," Apophis replied. He smiled. "You are welcome to join us too, my dear. I know Fox has grown attached to you, and a woman with your scientific knowledge, and," he eyed her appreciatively, "physical features will be quite an asset to the Project."

"What 'Project'?" Jack demanded.

The Goa'uld's eyes turned to him. "Colonization, Fox. Only this time it's ourselves doing the colonizing." He took another deep drag on his cigarette, and blew a cloud of smoke in Jack's face with a sardonic smile.

Coughing and squinting, Jack took a step back, and through the open door he heard the grinding sound of the Stargate dialing. At the same time the klaxon warning unauthorized gate access began to sound, and red lights flashed in the corridor. 

Scully backed up beside him; her gun still trained on Apophis. "What the hell…."

"Someone's activating the Stargate - from this side. C'mon!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her after him into the corridor.

She jerked her arm out of his grasp. "The _what_?"

"No time!" He hissed. "Come _on_!" He took off down the hallway, hearing the pounding of her feet just behind him. Belatedly, Jack wished he'd gone to the locker room first before approaching the General's office. Dressed as he was and armed with just a handgun, he felt naked and defenseless. He had a horrible feeling that he knew what was awaiting them, and the Glock would be practically useless against the serpent guard - hand to hand combat was an even less appealing idea. Maybe they could get to the control room - shut the gate down…

Too late. The blast doors were up, and he could see the watery blue event horizon of the Stargate wormhole. A double line of Jaffa were marching up the ramp, all of them dressed in dark three-piece suits, the first ones disappearing into the gate.

A dark skinned Jaffa was at the computer controls. "Kree!" Jack shouted, for what it was worth, and as the Jaffa looked up in surprise, he let loose a round from the Glock, taking him square in the chest. The Jaffa grunted, and started toward him, pulling out his own gun. Before he could fire, two more rounds, from Scully this time, dropped him. Jack disarmed him, staring for a second at the gold serpent crest of Apophis emblazoned on the gun's handle. He handed it to Scully, who was in turn staring through the bulletproof glass into the gateroom.

"My God," she breathed, taking the weapon without looking at it. "Mulder, what is it?"

"Right now we've gotta shut it _down_ ," he told her. Shoving his gun back into his waistband, he slammed both hands down on the computer keyboard, hitting as many keys as possible in hopes that he would hit on the sequence that would shut it down, as he'd seen Carter do. 

Nothing. "Dammit, Sam, couldn't you paint them red or something?" he muttered, throwing the keyboard aside in frustration. There was no time to set the auto-destruct, which was the one sequence he _did_ know, so instead he turned his attention to pulling as many wires out of the wall as he could.

"That will do you no good, Fox," said an amused voice from the doorway. "They're already through."

Feeling like he was operating in slow motion, Jack spun around, pulling out his gun. Just as slowly, Apophis tossed aside his cigarette and raised his own weapon, shooting Jack first.

The weapon didn't fire a bullet, but a Zat charge. As the electricity surged through his body, Jack collapsed to the floor, jerking spasmodically, his vision going gray. Through the haze, he heard Scully shout, and saw her fire at Apophis. A shield went up around him and the bullets bounced of it harmlessly as he laughed. Scully went down with a Zat blast, and the Goa'uld laughed again as he raised the gun for the second, disintegrating shot.

No, Jack tried to shout, but he was paralyzed. Apophis' laughter echoed in his ears as his vision faded from gray to black….

 

Someone was shaking him. Pretty hard. "Come on, Jack, wake up!" said a far off voice. He woke badly, sitting bolt upright, slamming his forehead into the forehead of the person bending over him.

"Ow!" he choked, falling back with a fit of coughing that brought tears to his eyes. "Ow!" he said again, for emphasis.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was back in the lounge. Looking down on him now at a safer distance, were Daniel Jackson, grimacing and gingerly rubbing his forehead, and Samantha Carter, a worried look in her blue eyes. Behind them, standing tall and straight was Teal'c, an impassive expression on his face. Jack sat up again, more slowly this time, rubbing his own forehead and dry-washing his face. 

"Bad dream, Jack?" Daniel asked mildly.

"You might say so," Jack grunted, looking at them more closely. He was gratified to see that Daniel's hair was clean and flopping forward toward his glasses, Sam's was short, and Teal'c…. Teal'c was Teal'c - standing proud, his gold serpent crest shining below his hairless scalp. They were all watching him intently, clearly expecting him to elaborate. 

All right. "You were all there," he told them. "You were this really weird conspiracy geek," he told Daniel, "and you were supposed to be my sister, or something," he told Sam. They blinked, exchanged glances and stepped back. "And you," he looked at Teal'c and shook his head. "You were just plain…scary." 

The Jaffa tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "General Hammond is expecting us in the briefing room, O'Neill." he rumbled. "Daniel Jackson and Major Carter have made some interesting discoveries."

Carter's eyes lit up. "Colonel," she said. "You won't believe what the outer coating of that artifact is composed of-"

"And I'm sure I won't understand it, either," Jack muttered under his breath, waving his hand to cut her off. "Save it for the briefing, Major."

Sam blinked again, and looked at Daniel, who shrugged. They left the room, and Jack stood, rubbing his neck and groaning as his back protested the new position. 

Teal'c remained where he was, studying him concernedly. "Are you ill, O'Neill?"

"No," Jack moved his hand from his neck to his forehead again, and winced. Damn, that was going to leave a bruise. Why did Daniel have to have such a hard head? "Teal'c - you ever have a dream that seemed so… real?"

"Jaffa do not dream, " His friend informed him, a slightly regretful tone in his voice. "Our symbiotes negate the need for much rest, unless there is injury or illness. And when we do rest, our brains decrease activity, so the symbiote can do its work."

Jack smiled weakly. "Way to go, Junior."

"Indeed." Teal'c looked at him a moment longer, considering. "O'Neill," he asked, "in what way was I frightening, in your dream?"

Jack chuckled. "Tell ya later," he said, slapping the larger man on the back as they walked to the door. "Maybe."

The End.

  


* * *

>   
> © February 7, 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television,   
> Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd.   
> Partnership.  
> This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment.   
> All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
> are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
